It is with the greatest sadness that I must
announce the passing of my darling girl in
the Cardiac Care Unit of the Nepean Hospital,
Penrith NSW at 4:15am on Saturday - August
11, 2007.
Shirley had initially taken sick around the
time of her eightieth birthday in May after
a vitamin capsule had become lodged in her
throat as she was trying to swallow it and
the resulting tear and irritation had caused
an asthma attack. She was administered Prednisone
and Ventolin initially and this seemed to
bring all under control at the time. She
was, in fact, quite well when we were treated
to a visit by eldest son, Julian who is resident
at the Stockton Centre in Stockton NSW on
May 23, 2007. Stockton had organised to bring
he and another resident down for a two day
holiday as neither we nor the other person's
parents had been able to visit for sometime.
We'd planned to drive to Sydney for the first
weekend in June to celebrate as this would
be the mid-point between both our birthdays
and when friends got wind of it they decided
to hold a combined birthday party for us
also doubling as a benefit for myself as
I had been diagnosed with inoperable and
incurable Prostate Cancer some six months
prior on our 20th Wedding Anniversary.
Sadly, what started out as a promising sojourn
rapidly developed into a nightmare with our
room booking being stuffed up and both of
us suffering falls at our lodgings. Me hurting
my chest as I fell onto a chair and my darling
Shirley slipping backwards on a wet floor
in the shared bathroom and landing heavily
in the shower cubicle bashing her head on
the wall and gashing her shin.
By the time we arrived back home from Sydney
on the Monday she had developed a severe
cold that very quickly became Pleurisy and
she had to be treated with antibiotics.
As she was unable to swallow tablets, or
capsules and was allergic to penicillin she
was given a suspension liquid (E.S.S.) to
be taken morning and night and all seemed
to start clearing up.
On June 20th we went to see our local GP again because the toes of her right foot were going somewhat blue in colour and there were open wounds on them, assumed to be from chilblains. It was suggested that she also go to Lithgow Hospital to have her toenails cut, although when we got there, and after waiting for some two hours, we were told that they did not do such a thing and she would have to see a podiatrist. An appointment was also made with a vascular specialist in Penrith for June 30th. However, after discovering that there was
little or no parking close to the rooms the
appointment was and one was made with an
Orange-based specialist for August 30th. Sadly, we would never make this appointment.
We went out to Bathurst in late June where
she saw the podiatrist and had her nails
cut and cleaned up and she was in reasonably
high spirits when we returned.
As June wore into July we both became rather
ill will nasty colds, hers obviously stretching
back into the realms of Pleurisy and my own
getting close to and by the end of the month
she had been placed on a relatively strong
antibiotic pill while I was on Augmentin.
I had gotten to the point of being unable
to lie down in bed and breathe at the same
time and finished up spending most of our
last four nights together trying to sleep
on the settee with the gas fire on and a
blanket wrapped around me while my darling
was in the bed in a sitting position propped
up with pillows and the electric blanket
on.
I awoke at around 5:30am on Sunday - August
5 to find Shirley awake, as she had been
all night, and phoned for the ambulance at
around 6:30am which arrived sometime between
then and 7:30am.
It was a freezing cold morning and the breeze
made it even more so and they had her walk
out to the ambulance - it must be said that
the temperature took even my own breath away
as I walked out with them.
The ambulance left and I followed on a few
minutes later after seeing to the animals
arriving at Lithgow Hospital Emergency around
8:00am and staying with her until they had
shifted her to the wards about mid-afternoon.
What amazed me then and still does is the
fact that after checking her blood pressure
and getting two wildly differing readings
from her left to her right arm that no further
investigation was done into why and it was
decided that further readings would be taken
from the right arm as that was the closest
to a normal reading. The actual cause of
this, it was discovered two days later in
Nepean, was an embolism in her left arm that
needed to be dissolved.
By the Monday afternoon it was decided that
she needed to be moved from Lithgow to Nepean's
Cardiac Care Unit as she appeared to have
had a 'mild heart attack' during the overnight
period from Sunday to Monday and they flew
her down in the helicopter around 10:30pm
on the Monday night - I followed the next
morning after staying with friends in Lithgow
overnight and arrived at the Nepean Hospital
around 9:00am on Tuesday - August 7th. As
with Lithgow, Nepean managed to completely
screw up the admission details from the spelling
of our family name to her being a 'Pensioner'
and therefore a 'Public' rather than a 'Private'
patient, all of which I had to get sorted
before I could sit beside her, hold her hand
and try to gain some comfort in being with
her.
During the morning we were told the seriousness
of the embolism and what they were doing
to alleviate that situation, we were also
told that she had now developed pneumonia
and that they were trying to fight that off
with antibiotics as well as bring her asthma
under control.
The biggest problem in the end was that she
hadn't been eating and was now under 30kg
in weight and was getting weaker by the minute
and I was actually told by the doctors on
the Friday morning as she was slipping into
a coma that it wasn't so much that her illness
wasn't treatable as the fact that she no
longer had any strength with which to fight
and that she was going to die. Perhaps within
the next hour or so. Marc was finally able
to get to her bedside by around 3:30 in the
afternoon after battling with buses, trains
and cabs and we were both with her when she
finally passed at 4:15am the following morning.
Over most of the last twelve months of her
life my sweet girl had hardly eaten a thing
and was down to around 30-35kg (fully clothed)
by the time of our last visit to our own
GP in late July.

In the time since I have been told many times
that my pain will subside with the passing
of time, although I must say that I don't
believe this to be the case. The truth of
the matter is that before Shirley I had no-one
and nothing and then she came along and made
me feel as if I were the richest of men as long as she was by my side. I had found
my true heart and soul and could face anything as long as she was
with me. I believe that she felt the same
way about myself.
I know that when ever I was on tour with the band in the nineties I hated being
away from my darling and my home and only
ever enjoyed it when she was there with me.
I also know that when she was in the States
on holiday in May/June 1986 she was missing
me the whole time and just wanted to be back
home beside me.
Time will NOT heal the wound! Shirley was all I ever had
and all I ever wanted, I hated being away
from her then and hate being away from her
now and do hope that I am wrong in my beliefs
and that there is an afterlife and that she
is waiting for me.

A few days ago Rod phoned and asked if I,
as a long time friend of both Shirley and
Rod, would deliver Shirley's eulogy today.
Naturally, I agreed. I consider it an honour
to be asked to do so.
But later, thinking over connotations of
the word "eulogy" I started having
second thoughts. The word to me conveys meanings
of finality and I feel that this occasion
is not the finality of Shirley's life: she
will live on in the memories of all who knew
her as well as the memories of her friends.
I am proud to have been among Shirley's circle
of friends. So, rather than a eulogy, allow
me just talk about our friend, Shirley.
I first met Shirley about 25 years ago, when
I started frequenting the Court House Hotel
in Redfern, where the late John Edgecombe
had a band. Among the regulars was Ray Horsnell.
I knew Ray by sight and by reputation as
a good reed player in various big bands,
but had never actually met him. Sitting with
him at the bar was a small, quietly spoken
woman; Ray's wife, Shirley. Over a period
of weeks we got talking; small chit chat,
as one does in these circumstances. At this
stage this was my only contact with Shirley.
Shortly after this, Ray Horsnell died suddenly
and Shirley seemed to drop out of sight.
Some time later my wife Heather and I were
at the Three Weeds Hotel in Rozelle when
Shirley came in one day. We started talking
again and gradually became firm friends.
A strong bond was forged by our mutual interest
in jazz [and maybe in pubs where jazz was
played; one went with the other.]
Shirley and I both became Committee members
of the Jazz Action Society, where we served
for some years: Shirley as Secretary and
I as Newsletter Editor. In a way we formed
an internal bloc; fighting off the forces
of reaction, as we saw it. Shirley was a
meticulous Secretary, minuting minutes of
meetings precisely. I remember one particularly
stormy meeting when I lost my cool and stormed
out of the meeting. In the minutes of that
meeting Shirley wrote something along the
lines of 'Kevin Casey said, "Bugger
this, I'm off. I'll see you at the Soup!"
picked up his papers and left'. And I did!
Shirley's appearance and demeanour reflected
her professional life of the time, as a schoolteacher.
In fact, some people thought she was a Sunday
school teacher. But beneath her mild mannered
exterior lurked "Party Girl!" She
liked to enjoy her life and friends were
fully engaged in everything she did. I have
fond memories of her dancing on the bar of
the Royal Hotel in Parkes during one of the
annual Jazz Triduums. Great fun!
Heather and I would pick Shirley up from
her place of work at Granville Tech on a
Friday morning, to take her to the Triduum.
Almost invariably she would be carpeted on
Tuesday for skiving off early on Friday,
to which she would say "Sorry"
and do the same the following year. She had
her priorities right.
Sometime in 1985 or 86 she met Rod Jeffery
and many of her friends [myself included]
felt that she had made a wrong choice. The
combination of the schoolteacher and the
big hairy blues singer seemed improbable.
Improbable or not, they married in December
1986 and the union continued until Shirley's
passing, with Rod becoming a supportive and
adoring husband.
Through her life Shirley was no stranger
to family tragedy and ill health, but her
indomitable spirit helped her raise herself
over her troubles and get on with her life.
During their married lives Shirley and Rod
moved home several times: from West Ryde
to Katoomba; to Lithgow and finally to Portland,
where they became part of the community and
the community has been very generous and
supportive of them. With all these moves,
ever westward, I often wondered if Rod would
give up the blues and become a Country and
Western singer.
Our thoughts go out to Rod and to Shirley's
son, Marcus and the rest of her family.
Shirley was a unique person and she will
be sorely missed. But this is not a time
for tears: it is a time to celebrate a full
and unique life.
But to paraphrase a philosopher whose name
escapes me: Weep not for Shirley, for she
is beyond tears: rather, weep for ourselves,
for our lives are the poorer for her passing.

Thank you

It is now with great sadness that I must
report the passing of Kevin Casey on Sunday
evening - December 27, 2009.
Kevin had been ill for some time with Prostate
Cancer and, sadly, a short time ago this
evening I received a call from his daughter
saying that his battle was now over.